


Consequences of Tapes

by hnwriter



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: F/M, Grief, Hospitals, Introspection, Reflection, death scare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hnwriter/pseuds/hnwriter
Summary: Of all the things Diane was aware she’d be walking into, getting to know the inside of a man’s soul was not one of them. The tapes were never part of her job description. Well, not exactly. Many agents took notes on their cases in several ways; Diane was an excellent typist and had noted that in her interview. When Agent Cooper had notified her in the use of his tapes for his case notes, she hadn’t batted an eye. Then, he started to address her in them. And she had no problem with that, not inherently; her ears would hear the tapes. Why not address her? Then in the same breath, he’d called her presence comforting. He’d said she’d had insight. And Diane Evans was not a woman to blush so easily at the compliment of a well-dressed man, least of all her superior, but there was a specific type of genuine honesty in his voice that made her pause. But, she shoved it back to practicality and continued with her work. Supporting Cooper was supporting the Bureau, which was supporting the country. Looking into things too deeply would only distract her.





	Consequences of Tapes

She was pretty sure that Special Agent Dale Cooper of the Federal Bureau of Investigation of the Violent Crimes division had not a clue what her last name was.

When she’d realized that fact, she was surprised about how little offense she took to that fact. Actually, she wasn’t offended at all. Had it been anyone else—Gordon or Albert or any of the other secretaries, she was sure that she’d spent quite the fair amount of time explaining the personal slight that was. It was well known Diane always made quite the impression, but she was not demeaning, or angry, or condescending. If anyone had simply misplaced her name, they could have politely asked her and explained the brain misstep. It would have been that simple, no worries, no other thoughts aside. Diane would have laughed it off. To add to the would-be offense, Agent Cooper was her boss. Of anyone who should know her name, it should have been him. But, she couldn’t be angry with him.

Maybe it was because he knew nothing else about her life, and yet she felt as if she knew him inside and out. When she applied to secretary school, and then the bureau, she needed a nice and steady job to support her and her sister, and enough to set aside for emergencies or the occasional therapeutic indulgence. The cabaret was over with a nasty knee injury and a convent seemed dull—and no dance shoes were allowed—and a government job was steady. There were benefits and steady hours and good work. When applying, there had been a very stern man across a table from her that had warned her of very “gruesome, obscene” things she’d possibly see. At the time, Diane had laughed and said something to the effect that her spine was stronger than her skin was fair. Then she was hired, and assigned to work under a new agent; Dale Cooper. It was a good job. Diane liked her job.

Of all the things Diane was aware she’d be walking into, getting to know the inside of a man’s soul was not one of them. The tapes were never part of her job description. Well, not exactly. Many agents took notes on their cases in several ways; Diane was an excellent typist and had noted that in her interview. When Agent Cooper had notified her in the use of his tapes for his case notes, she hadn’t batted an eye. Then, he started to address her in them. And she had no problem with that, not inherently; her ears would hear the tapes. Why not address her? Then in the same breath, he’d called her presence comforting. He’d said she’d had insight. And Diane Evans was not a woman to blush so easily at the compliment of a well-dressed man, least of all her superior, but there was a specific type of genuine honesty in his voice that made her pause. But, she shoved it back to practicality and continued with her work. Supporting Cooper was supporting the Bureau, which was supporting the country. Looking into things too deeply would only distract her.

But it didn’t stop at a name. In the office, Agent Cooper and her were amiable. Light hearted; they got along well and she knew they both believed them to be a good team. Team. However, in the office, the only unusual part of their relationship was his great affinity for the unique and her dance shoes tapping across the tile. Then he would leave and she’d get cassettes from a man not different, not dissimilar, not even a shade away from himself in the flesh. They sounded the same; the voices from the slicked-hair agent and the cassette tapes were one in the same. Bright, crisp, confident, enthusiastic; those voices were one in the same. But, they were very, very different men.

It was the man on the tapes that made her love him. Not like some starry-eyed girl who felt her heart warm like a flower under a summer sun; Diane was far too sensible to let herself fall for him like that, or anyone like that. But, it was the young man with fears and an intense and abiding love of pie who softened her heart. Diane loved Cooper. She wanted to give him a piece of cherry pie for his birthday and a new mug for Christmas, and that was centered from the sound of his tired but relieved laugh over a tape in September. When he was tired and she brought him a fresh cup of coffee, it was not from the slight way the grease would relax in his hair, but she could tell because the ends of his sentences would start to slow just enough to show he wasn’t quite at his usual speed to think of his next sentence. Because of the tapes. He was an ally, a friend, a brother; in the contents of those tapes, she found great affection for Special Agent Cooper.

It was because of the tapes she was standing in a hospital room over Dale Cooper’s sleeping body.

Doctors said he slept most of the day. Needed it for recovery, they said. Had they heard the way he’d talked about Caroline over those tapes, though? Had they heard his adoration and his love and his devotion? They might have. Diane wasn’t actually sure. But, did they know the particular way his voice would crack when he was sad, or scared, or distraught?

Or grieving?

She did. She knew exactly how it sounded, because it was her who heard the exact moment Dale Cooper realized the woman he loved was dead.

“This better not kill you, Cooper,” she sighed, sitting reservedly just a few feet away from his bed. His dark hair seemed blacker, his skin paler. She never knew exactly how to look at him, how to read him, when he was in front of her. They’d long since formed the habit of her actually closing her eyes when speaking to him sometimes, because the sights in his eyes would confuse her far more than the sound of his voice. But, he was asleep, so she could probably handle herself. Yet again, he nearly died, so she also could not.

“I would likely get reassigned to an Agent who would have no appreciation for the quality of my work, or would make me change my shoes,” she sighed, laughing a little to herself as tears started to sting in the corners of her eyes.

“And I just can’t have that. I can’t have you dead, because who will teach me about coffee, or Tibet, or cherry pie? I’d have a very lonely April without your birthday to celebrate. And I wouldn’t know how to do my job with your voice in my ears all day if I got another Agent that preferred written notes.” Another laugh, but her voice caught onto her words like a hook, choking her through her tears. A selfish impulse was all it took for her to reach over to briefly clasp his hand. It was all she needed for the moment. The warmth of his alive hand was all she needed until she had another tape on her desk again.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a thing that I wrote actually before S3 of Twin Peaks, so Diane's a bit. Well. Warmer than what we see, but I'm still of the mind--given the way Cooper describes her in My Life, My Tapes--that Diane and Cooper were very fond and warm with each other in their friendship. This piece came from a realization that there are probably very few people in the world who hear as much about Cooper's life, emotions, and thoughts, as Diane does through the tapes, and how would that make her feel? So, take this, Internet.


End file.
